Cristina Jill

Late Ripeness “Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year, I felt a door opening in me and I entered the clarity of early morning. One after another my former lives were departing, like ships, together with their sorrow. And the countries, cities, gardens, the bays of seas assigned to my brush came closer, ready now to be described better than they were before. I was not separated from people, grief and pity joined us. We forget - I kept saying - that we are all children of the King. For where we come from there is no division into Yes and No, into is, was, and will be. We were miserable, we used no more than a hundredth part of the gift we received for our long journey. Moments from yesterday and from centuries ago - a sword blow, the painting of eyelashes before a mirror of polished metal, a lethal musket shot, a caravel staving its hull against a reef - they dwell in us, waiting for a fulfillment. I knew, always, that I would be a worker in the vineyard, as are all men and women living at the same time, whether they are aware of it or not.” ~ Czeslaw Milosz ~ My name is Cristina Jill Mosqueda Cooper. I pause looking at my name, and think about how much there is to explain with those words alone. My mother gave me a name to use in each of my worlds, Cristina for my Cuban life, and Jill for the American life. I suppose it is there were the paradoxes of my life began. I have been many things in my life, from a housekeeper to a high school history teacher; but no matter what else I did, I was always a writer. I love words and the power and passion which they can be used to create. I love reading words, writing words, speaking words, and listening to words – especially words from people that I love and respect. It is my desire to live life on my own terms, and willingly or not, I have paid the price demanded, by the world, to be myself. I share my life with Kate, with whom I have lived for the last 23 years, and Miss Merry Margaret, our little mutt who really is the world’s most perfect dog. I also travel, cook, garden, sculpt, and make large messes doing all of the above. Welcome to my world, that is all for now.

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Manasseh Press

March 24, 2010
Manasseh Press

Follow To hold a pen is to be at war. ~ Voltaire ~ Our Mission Statement Manasseh Press, publishers of ThatIsAllForNow.Com, is committed to promoting free thought, conversation, and action by exposing and exploring words and ideas through poetry, prose, history, politics, art, technology and religion.  It is our desire to...
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A View from the Road

March 9, 2010

Follow Teachers Do Inspire     If you have been to Athens, Greece in the last couple of decades, this is not the View From The Road, which you see, rather the Acropolis, including the Parthenon and Athena’s Temple, are surrounded by scaffolding, but this was what I saw in 1980. I remember Miss...
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Archived Post March 2010

March 7, 2010

Follow  March 2010 Lagniappe           Recently, we went to Avery Island, home to Tabasco pepper sauce.  For all of one dollar, per car, you may take a mini tour of the factory, visit the museum, see a video, and enjoy more free samples than I have ever before been offered.  I...
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Archived Post February 2010

February 1, 2010

Follow  February 2010 Tia We are driving through the Everglades.  On this clear, chilly morning the sun is shinning brightly, and the trees are dressed with the widest array of birds that I have ever seen.  It is impossible to identify them all or take in the vast landscape rolling by,...
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Archived Post January 2010

January 3, 2010

Follow   January 2010 Surviving Matters “But in the field the man finds the girl who is engaged, and the man forces her and lies with her, then only the man who lies with her shall die.  But you shall do nothing to the girl; there is no sin in the...
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Archived Post December 2009

December 6, 2009

Follow  December 2009 Topsy-Turvy             “As Maria raised her head she knew that the court was not there.  The light was different and the ballroom floor was the quilt of her bed at home.  She opened her eyes wide.  The clear light of the morning was streaming into her room. ...
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Archived Post November 2009

November 7, 2009

Follow December 2009 Merci “Perhaps the most touching objects are simple stars cut out of paper and fabric from people with nothing more to give. . . ‘I am an old lady,’ explains one woman in a note with her star. ‘However, I send you a token of my appreciation… to...
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Archived Post October 2009

October 7, 2009

Follow  October 2009 Coming Home   I have always said I would go sometime in the autumn Away from the bare boughs and the fallen leaves, Away from the lonely sounds and the faded colors, And all the ancient sorrow, and change that grieves.   I have always said I would...
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Archived Post September 2009

September 7, 2009

Follow September 2009 Gone Fishing             Well not exactly, but in the morning we do head to New York City, to begin the first leg of our own “Grand Tour.”  We will be gone for most of the month, and have decided to disconnect for the duration, we shall see if...
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Archived Post August 2009

August 2, 2009

Follow August 2009 What Matters     “. . . Roll down the window, put down the top.  Crank up the Beach Boys, baby don’t let the music stop.  We’re gonna ride it till we just can’t ride it no more. From the South Bay to the Valley. From the West...
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